


What Happens In Toronto...

by isitandwonder



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Date Night, Dirty Talk, I'm not sorry, M/M, One green velvet jacket, Rough Sex, Spanking, This is just smut, Toronto, ridiculous allusions to horses and riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 03:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15940421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isitandwonder/pseuds/isitandwonder
Summary: Armie fucks Timmy in nothing but his green velvet jacket after their date night.





	What Happens In Toronto...

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Haider Ackermann, that green fuck me velvet jacket, not enough sleep, holdmygazeoliver's opinion that the white pattern on Timmy's suit looked like spunk shot all over it and my filthy imagination for this work.  
> No ponies were harmed in the process.  
> And don't get me started on those IG stories. I mean, hearts and porn music... okayyyyyy

„Careful, this is only borrowed!“ Timmy shrieks but doesn't put up real resistance as Armie yanks his pants down while he's still in the process of toeing off his boots.

“That man loves you. He'll forgive you.” Armie presses an open-mouth kiss at the junction of Timmy's leg and groin. “Wow, commando, Timmy?”

“That man who loves me says it ruins the line.” Timmy giggles, breathless.

“I never said that but it's true.” Armie grins up at him before biting down on his inner thigh, nuzzling his balls with the bridge of his nose and Timmy squeals again, a little undignified. Armie laughs, breath ghosting over damp flesh, and pushes him back so he lands flat on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling of his posh hotel room. He could get used to all this luxury.

It has been a crazy year.

“Hey, earth to Chalamet.” Armie crawls over him on all fours, caging him. He's still fully dressed and that somehow turns Timmy on even more. “I want you in nothing but this fuck me velvet jacket.” Armie growls in his ear and Timmy shivers all over.

He quickly takes the garment in question off, then allows Armie to unbutton his nightblue shirt. He takes his time, kissing and licking each newly revealed part of Timmy's body, paying special attention to his nipples because he knows it drives Timmy crazy, and by the time he reaches Timmy's navel he's so hard it's outright embarrassing for a grown man.

“Please...” Timmy whines and Armie almost rips that shirt off of him, buttons flying, fabric tearing, and Timmy knows he'll have some serious explaining to do the next morning but fuck it – it's been so long.

“Put it back on.” Armie nods in the direction of the heap of green velvet on the duvet and Timmy shrugs it on again, the silk lining slippery cool against his heated skin.

“So lovely.” Armie sighs, running his hands trough Timmy's shorter curls before finally kissing him, a little teasing at first but that is soon abandoned as they both go all in, hungry, sloppy, wet, almost brutal. They only part when teeth meet teeth.

“Ouch.” Timmy laughs but Armie just tightens his grip in his hair and bites his lower lip until Timmy is reduced to a whimpering pile of want. His own hands fly up to Armie's sleeves, not to push him away, no, never, but to hold on to him for dear life.

“You still like that?” Armie gasps into his open mouth and Timmy just nods, a metallic taste on his tongue. “Good.”

Their faces are only inches apart and the gleam in Armie's eyes makes Timmy bold. He slides his hands down, down, over Armie's stomach, the waistband of his trousers and when he cups him his eyes flutter shut.

He's so huge. Timmy dares to rub him and his palm is almost not large enough to cover Armie's erection. Armie lets him for a moment and Timmy can outright feel his soft grin before he pulls his hand firmly away.

“You didn't ask for that.”

“I did. The whole evening.” Timmy opens his eyes again and stares back at Armie, unblinking. They both know what they are doing. A few months apart couldn't break their dynamic.

“But not with words, Timmy. You know the rules.”

Oh, yes, Timmy knows the rules. Very well. If he doesn't ask nicely for the things he wants, he gets punished. Touching especially is only allowed when Armie tells him to, but then has to be performed without hesitation.

But as it's been almost six months, Timmy doesn't want to play by the rules. Which, of course, is the true purpose of those rules – to be violated. Which leads to Timmy being violated. They both know it and it has led to some very elaborate and almost transcendental scenarios in the past.

But tonight is not such a night. They both need it but they also both need it fast.

“I bet you're not even sorry.” It's not a question. Armie holds Timmy's chin between thumb and forefinger and Timmy tries to look repentant but is sure he fails miserably because he just feels horny, yearning for Armie to put his hands on him, make him feel it, make him come.

“I've been bad, Armie, really bad.” Timmy babbles and he doesn't care that he sounds ridiculous because he's so hard it starts to get painful and Armie seems in no better state so they should just hurry the fuck up. “I've touched myself every night in Hungary. Without your permission.” He flutters his eyelids, bites his swollen lower lip. “I've fingered myself as well and do you know, they have those real glass bottles for Coke-”

He's not allowed to finish. Armie pulls him up by the back of his jackets and almost throws him onto the floor where he stays on all four, breathing hard. As he raises his head he sees that Armie has removed his own tux and is rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt.

“Come here, over my lap.” He tells Timmy when he sits back down on the bed and Timmy tries to fake reluctance but he's sure he's never draped himself over Armie's thighs faster. His cock is trapped between his own belly and Armie's legs.

Armie's hand starts to stroke the back of his naked thighs before lazily kneading his buttocks. Timmy inhales and waits.

The first blow hits him at the junction of ass and leg. Timmy knows better than to make a sound.

Armie decks his ass with a row of hard smacks until he can feel his skin burn and throb. With every hit, Timmy's cock chafes against the wool of Armie's pants. He's almost sobbing with the combination of pain, humiliation and the need to come.

Usually, Armie makes him count – but not today. Today he just spanks him until sweat is dripping from Timmy's brow and Armie's trouser leg is soaked with his precome.

“So, tell me, what exactly did you do with those glass bottles?” Armie's voice is rough as he eventually stops, caressing Timmy's abused flesh. Timmy's not sure he's still able to form words but he tries. It'll give him a pause to compose himself.

“I... coated them with Vaseline... we were given because... of the riding... to prevent getting... saddle sore... and I... slicked a small bottle up... when in bed... bend my legs... and shoved it... up my ass... thinking of you.” He's blushing furiously. Armie always knows how to get him in this state, halfway between totally turned on and utterly humiliated.

As a reward for his honesty, Armie hums with approval, his fingers ghosting over Timmy's crack. He bucks, nearly shooting his load all over Armie's lap at this simple touch.

“Speaking of riding.”

Next thing he knows, Armie shoves him off his lap as he stands to remove his shoes and pants. Then he lies back on the bed, hands behind his head, and beckons for Timmy to join him.

“Ride me, little pony.”

Armie is still in the habit to keep his lube in his nightstand so Timmy gets it, coats two fingers and pushes them inside himself, making sure Armie has a good view because he knows he likes watching him like this. His ass is burning but it can't be helped. He must look totally depraved, with his spread, reddened ass cheeks, two fingers buried inside him to the hilt.

He quickly adds a third and Armie grunts, outright manhandling Timmy on top of him.

“That's enough.”

It isn't but Timmy doesn't care as he sinks down on Armie's horse-sized cock. The stretch is almost unbearable. Almost. Because he's missed this so much he doesn't care how much it hurts.

Armie breathes hard as he watches Timmy take his cock, his eyes a very dark blue despite his put-on nonchalance. Timmy knows he's probably even more affected by all of it than he himself.

“God, I missed you.” Timmy sighs when he's fully seated, his own cock jutting out in front of him, dripping on Armie's dress shirt.

Armie gently strokes his thighs in response before wrapping his large hand around Timmy's erection, giving it a squeeze.

“Come on.”

Timmy starts to move. He's slow at first but speeds up as his body adjusts. When he feels Armie plant his feet firmly on the mattress, pulling up his legs to get better leverage to fuck up inside him, he fully lets go. His hands claw to Armie's shirt as he bobs up and down his shaft, impaling himself on his thick, hard length. His ass cheeks throb when Armie slams into him but the pain only turns him on more.

The silk and velvet of his jacket slide and rub against his sensitive skin, his peaked nipples, making his body tingle all over. The mixed sensations soon proof too much.

It doesn't take long before he can feel Armie swell inside him. Timmy clenches, makes his inner muscles milk Armie dry, massaging every drop of semen from his cock before he gives himself over to his own orgasm, shouting something like “Oh god” and “Fuck” as he shoots his load all over Armie and himself.

Afterwards, he sinks forward and Armie lifts him off, laying him gently down on the mattress.

“You jacket now looks like the one from yesterday, with those white stripes.”

“Blossoms.” Timmy mumbles. “Peach blossoms.”

“Of course.”

Armie leaves but returns a moment later with a warm flannel and a towel.

After he's cleaned Timmy up he gets naked and climbs back into bed with him, pulling the duvet up over them both.

“Is that true, by the way? What you told me you did with those... bottles.”

Timmy grins with closed eyes.

“Nah, of course not, Armie. What do you think off me? That would be so filthy.”

But he can feel himself blush again.

“Oh, Timmy, this gives me so many ideas for when we meet again.”

Armie chuckles against his nape and Timmy is suddenly very excited for their next reunion. 

“But only if you make them play that song again. It's so romantic.” He mumbles, already drifting off to sleep.

“Of course, babe.”

Thank god for festival season and the opportunities it provides!


End file.
